


Firestarter

by JustAnotherBlonde



Series: A Lifetime of Moments [15]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossover, Explosions, Sasori and Deidara have a fight, character crossover, firecrackers, just little ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27208267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherBlonde/pseuds/JustAnotherBlonde
Summary: Sasori is busy preparing for an out-of-town conference, leaving Deidara bored and frustrated. When he heads out to blow off some steam, he runs into none other than Sasuke Uchiha, who, it turns out, wants to ask Deidara a favour. Deidara learns directly from Sasuke what his plans for Itachi are.
Relationships: Deidara & Uchiha Sasuke, Deidara/Sasori (Naruto)
Series: A Lifetime of Moments [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878778
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Firestarter

**Author's Note:**

> i needed someone to be Deidara's supplier for explosives. who better than Vinny Santorini from Disney's Atlantis???

“Mm, it’s starting to get cold, mn,” Deidara murmured into the high neck of his sweater. It was thick-knit and cream-coloured with long sleeves that extended past his fingertips. His absolute favourite piece of clothing. For the time being, at least.

Sasori looked up from his worktable. He was always at his worktable these days.

“What was that, Dei?” Sasori said distractedly. His attention was completely devoted to attaching phalanges one by one to the hand of his latest creation. The worktable was more cluttered than it had ever been, the drawers which usually hid away all of Sasori’s carving tools, wires, pliers, and other metalwork hung open like a thief had ransacked them for treasure. Boxes of materials—wood, cloth, hair, glass eyes—lay strewn across the floor so that in order to cross the room, you had to leap over them like a low-budget “American Ninja”.

“Nothing, mn,” Deidara sighed. He slouched over to the worktable, stepped over a box of eyeballs, and pulled up a stool. “How many pieces do you have now?”

“This is… eight. The last in the series. I need to finish it before I leave for the conference.”

“Which is…?” Deidara slumped over the table and ran his fingers through a pile of wood shavings. He spent nearly an hour every night cleaning sawdust and wood shavings out of his hair and clothes these days.

“Next week. I’ll miss most of Week 5.” Sasori looked up and set down his tools. “Is it that hard to remember? I’m sure I’ve told you this a dozen times already.”

“No, you haven’t. You’ve probably _thought_ about telling me a dozen times while you sit there in complete silence, ignoring me, mn.”

“Ignoring you?” Sasori’s brows pinched together in puzzlement and concern. “First, I need to finish these pieces. They complete the portfolio of work I’m displaying for my presentation. Second, I cook for you every night. Then we spend at least two hours watching your television show—”

“ _My_ television show??” Deidara threw up his hands. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” he whined, sounding hurt. “I thought you liked Drag Race… mn.”

“I do, I do…” Sasori rubbed his eyes. “But I’d rather read before bed…”

“I know, but I thought you liked… fine, mn.” Deidara took a deep breath. _Be patient, be patient…_

This zen state of mind only lasted for about a minute.

“Fuck!” Deidara shouted.

Sasori jumped and flung his tools aside.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair. “I’m trying to work here! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m going out! Mm,” Deidara huffed, scrambling for his keys, snatching his coat off its hook and checking he had his phone.

He didn’t linger long enough to hear if Sasori said goodbye.

*

It was late afternoon. Deidara thought about going to his warehouse to work on something new, but he wasn’t feeling inspired. Besides, the warehouse was cluttered with kintsugi practice pieces: if he went there, all he’d be thinking about would be Sasori. And he needed to clear his head.

His feet found their own way, and soon he was banging on the door of a different warehouse. It took a moment, but just as Deidara inhaled to shout his name, Vinny Santorini swung open the door.

“What?” Vinny almost always sounded like he was complaining about something; his thick salt-and-pepper mustache curved like a particularly grumpy frown. He took one look at Deidara and stepped aside to let him in.

“Oh, kid, it’s just you,” he drawled. “I thought maybe you were my nonna. Last week she found out I’d moved ops here and now I live in fear she’s gonna drop by with a barrel of antipasti and a nice Italian girl for me to marry. What’ll it be today?”

By the time Vinny stopped talking, Deidara was already deep inside the warehouse. He sidled through the rows of plastic-wrapped wooden crates, skimming their labels—BOTTLE ROCKETS, SMOKE BOMBS, ROMAN CANDLES, FIRECRACKERS, M-80S, M-90S, M-100S, DYNAMITE. He ran his hands through an open box of snappers. Kids’ toys.

He paused beside the crates of single-ignition fireworks barrages. 12-SHOT, 24-SHOT, 108-SHOT, 224-SHOT… Reading their commercial labels usually made him chuckle, but today even cheesy names like “Dark Thunder”, “False Sense of Security”, “Keeping Up the Joneses”, and “Grounds for Divorce” failed to tickle a laugh out of him.

“Eh, I dunno… I just want something small, nothing too flashy, non-lethal… Just wanna mess around, make some noise, mn.”

“Crackers, then. How bout the mid-sized Chinese ones?”

“Yeah, maybe the ones with the longer fuses, mn.”

“How many you need?” Vinny walked briskly over to a crate by the wall and started pulling out boxes of firecrackers, setting them on a nearby table. He was wildly debonair in his movements: he tossed one box a little too hard and struck one of the bottles which stood on the table.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, diving to catch it before it hit the ground. Vinny looked up at Deidara and laughed nervously. Deidara was grinning: he knew what the bottle was. If the two of them were cats, they’d both be out one of their nine lives.

“Close one, Vinny, mn,” he said, walking around the table to help Vinny to his feet. “You really shouldn’t leave volatile stuff out like that. One day this place is gonna go up in a big ball of smoke and fireworks and you’ll be out thousands.”

Vinny shrugged. “If that happened, I would probably also be dead. It would be pretty spectacular, though.”

Nodding, Deidara replied to Vinny’s original question, “I’ll just take as many crackers as I can fit in my pockets, mn. Oh, and maybe a reel of fuse.”

“And I will subtract it from your store credit, kid. I am always amazed when I don’t see you in the news, blown to pretty little bits… or worse, caught by the cops. I did a bit of time back in my day for the—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, for the Financial District Fire. That was twenty years ago. I know all about it, Vinny, mn,” Deidara interrupted as he busily stuffed firecrackers by the handful into his jacket pockets. “It’s still all they talk about on the forums.”

“One minute fun and games, innocent bit of vandalism, then _whoosh_ , the whole building’s on fire, then the next building, and the next…” Vinny shrugged. “I never saw it coming.”

“I just wish I could’ve been there, mn.” Deidara’s eye gleamed with admiration. He made his way over to the exit. “See you soon, Vinny!”

Vinny waved as Deidara pushed open the door. “Don’t do anything I’d do, kid!”

“You know me better than that, mn.”

*

Now, where would be the best place to terrorize joggers, dogs and small children on a chilly autumn day? Deidara avoided the main park near campus—people would probably report him if he went there too often. There was a park on the north side of town that he knew about, however, in a quiet, run-down neighbourhood where police response to noise complaints was notoriously slow. Great for Deidara, not so great for residents. Whatever, life wasn’t always fair.

He stopped at a shop for a bag of remaindered bread and was waiting at an intersection for the light to change when he heard someone shout:

“Hey!”

_Don’t engage…_ Deidara reminded himself. He was not in a friendly neighbourhood. Footsteps approached, slowing from a run; the person they belonged to was out of breath.

Deidara looked up. It was Sasuke. Before he could utter a word of his surprise, Sasuke spoke.

“You’re Deidara, right?” If Sasuke’s eyes had shone in recognition a moment ago, they were now dull and guarded as he stared at the ground and scuffed his foot. “Tobi’s friend?”

“And you’re that young fire-starter with magic hands, mn,” Deidara smirked, sidling in close. It was incredibly entertaining to watch the young Uchiha blush and twitch away.

“Uh, sorry to bother you…” Sasuke muttered, turning to leave.

Thinking quickly, Deidara snagged Sasuke around the shoulders. His face split into an enormous grin: he had been looking for something weak and helpless to torture, and while small animals were always a laugh, insecure teenagers were even better—even if they were nearly 15cm taller than him.

“Leaving so soon? Why don’t you tag along with me for a bit? If you like playing with fire you’ll love this game, mn.”

Sasuke eyed him, trying to look disgusted but mostly managing nervousness.

Deidara released his grip.

“Look, I’m not gonna mess with you, alright? I’m not interested in your sorry little ass, mn.”

“Where are you going?” Sasuke shoved his hands in his pockets. It was clear he wanted something from Deidara, despite his nervousness. “I heard about your art from Tobi. Explosions, right?”

He looked up at Deidara. “Where do you get your stuff?”

_Oho, so that’s what this is about._

“Come play with me and maybe I’ll tell you, mn.”

Deidara stepped out into the intersection. The light was already flashing: if Sasuke wanted to follow him, it was now or never. Deidara flipped around so he was walking backwards across the crosswalk, watching Sasuke’s internal struggle with glee. The kid wore a brand new white-and-purple windbreaker over slim black trousers tucked into brand new Doc Martens. _Somebody’s got money…_ Deidara thought. A plan was hatching in his mind that meant he could keep Vinny a secret from this Uchiha brat while lining his own pockets.

“Come on, Hot Sauce! You want the firepower, you gotta talk to Deidara-senpai, mn!” _Oh god, did I just say that? Out loud? They’re rubbing off on me… TOBI is rubbing off on me. Disgusting, mn._

Sasuke set his jaw as if he were about to leap off a cliff into shark-infested waters for the sake of his country or lover or something equally dramatic, then dashed across the intersection, meeting Deidara on the other side just as the light changed.

“Fine,” he grumbled, as they set off down a side street not far from the intersection.

They passed rows and rows of terraced houses without a scrap of greenery—no bushes, no trees, not even potted plants. Everything was brick and concrete, and grubby, soot covered brick and concrete at that. Sasuke walked with his head bowed, not taking in any of it.

“God, you Uchihas are just the worst, haha.” Deidara chuckled. “You act like it’s only you with the world on your shoulders, mn.”

Sasuke shot a look at him. “What do you know about the Uchiha family, anyway? You can’t even begin to understand the struggle my family has been through.”

“Oh, boo-hoo, mn.”

They were nearing the park Deidara had in mind. The sky was overcast, which meant that there would probably be far fewer creatures in the park than he’d hoped. Certainly fewer children.

“Right,” he said, pausing just outside the gate. The park had a bunch of sad shrubbery, a swath of sad yellow grass and a grove of sad stunted trees. But there were pigeons!

Deidara yanked the bag of bread from his pocket. Sasuke’s eyes widened: it wasn’t exactly a loaf-of-bread-sized pocket. Cradling and patting the lump like a proud father, Deidara decided he’d troll Sasuke rather than reveal what he had originally planned to do. He unlatched the gate and strolled into the park.

“First, we need to gain their trust, mn.”

Sasuke replied with a blank stare. “Whose trust?”

“The pigeons! God, you’re thick… mn. We feed them bread until we’ve got a flock.”

“Okay, then what?” Sasuke said, somehow managing both skepticism and resignation in his expression.

“Then! Then, we toss firecrackers at them, watch them fly away, wait till they return for more bread, then repeat, mn!”

This time Sasuke just turned his back and started walking away.

“Sorry, I thought you were actually up to something interesting,” he called over his shoulder. “Bye.”

“Bye loser, mn,” Deidara said in a joyful sing-song voice. _It worked!_

Sasuke stopped in his tracks. “You were fucking with me,” he said in a monotone voice. He hung his head: he’d been had. Deidara grinned and started tossing the loaf of bread up in the air, juggling it from hand to hand.

“Of course I’m fucking with you, Saucepan. You’re an easy target, mn.”

“So what are you really going to do with the firecrackers?” Sasuke said, turning around and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Probably still going to throw them at unsuspecting small animals, mn,” Deidara shrugged.

“So what’s with the bread?”

“What’s with all the questions, mn?”

“Why do you end every sentence with ‘mn’? It’s annoying.”

“Wha—”

“Forget I said that. Seriously, what’s the bread for?”

“Asshole!” Deidara was quickly getting fed up with this kid. “The bread is for my lovely pigeon friends. I’ve been training them to carry things for me, mn.”

Sasuke slowly paced back towards Deidara. A little smirk was playing on the corner of his mouth now. “What were they carrying for you? Firecrackers?”

“Mostly trash. I still haven’t figured out how to send them where I want yet… mn.”

Sasuke laughed at this, a low, derisive chuckle.

“You know…” he began, twisting his mouth as he considered what to say. “Tobi told me you were odd but I didn’t realise you were _this_ odd.”

Deidara jammed his hands onto his hips—including the fist with the loaf of bread, squashing it further.

“And when Tobi told _me_ you were a bit of an asshole I didn’t realise by ‘a bit’ he meant ‘enormous’ and by ‘asshole’ he meant… he meant… a mannerless little shit, mn!”

“That makes no sense…”

“Shut up!” Deidara threw the loaf of bread at Sasuke, who managed to catch it, despite complete lack of warning. Hands now free, Deidara fumbled in his pockets for a firecracker and his lighter.

“What are you—” Sasuke stared.

Deidara was lighting the firecracker.

“I just wanted to get out of the house, blow off some steam and _relax_ , mn!” he growled at Sasuke. He held the hissing firecracker pinched between forefinger and thumb. He widened his stance and lowered his chin, glaring out at Sasuke from behind his fringe. “Instead I’m babysitting. You’re stressing me out, Sasuke. So we’re going to play a game, mn. Catch.”

The firecracker sailed through the air, landing on the spot where Sasuke had been standing—he had the sense side-step rather than try and catch it. The thick red cylinder hissed for two more seconds before going off with a moderate _bang!_

Sasuke stared at him. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re not the first person to say that to me, mn,” Deidara growled. “These fuses last for twenty seconds, give or take. Count in your head and try to catch the next one. They’re made with 50 milligrams of gunpowder, nowhere near enough to take off a finger. The worst that could happen is a bit of bruising, mn.”

“You’re insane,” Sasuke repeated.

“And you’re a scaredy-cat, mn.”

Sasuke’s eyes flashed at this. “Fine. I’ll play.”

“Good, mn.” Deidara lit another firecracker and tossed it into the air. _Nineteen, eighteen—_ Sasuke caught it, tossed it— _fifteen, fourteen, thirteen—_ catch, throw— _ten, nine_ —Sasuke fumbled it, dove—

“No!” Deidara cried. “Leave it, the fuse looks—” They both danced backwards… _bang!_ “—short.”

“Heh,” Sasuke smirked. “Can I light one?”

“Sure, mn.” Deidara tossed him the lighter and a cracker.

This time they threw faster, harder.

_Bang!_ It went off mid-air.

Again. This time they spread apart across the lawn; their throws longer.

_Bang!_

Again.

_Bang!_

Again.

The cracker sailed high over Deidara’s head, landing in the sad, yellowing shrubbery behind him.

“Shit.” Deidara hissed. He could see the underbrush catching almost immediately. “Sauce-child, it is time for us to make our hasty departure, mn,” he said, shoving Sasuke along the path. He stooped to grab his lumpy loaf of bread and jam it back into his pocket again.

By the time they got to the park gate, the bushes were burning a merry warm orange and a neighbour or two had emerged to gawk.

“Don’t look back, mn,” Deidara advised. “Pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“Are you telling me or reminding yourself?”

“Shut up! Is that smart mouth a family trait? I swear you’re worse than Itachi, mn.”

Deidara led them around the side of the park to a different street than the one they’d arrived from and headed south at a brisk pace. He wanted to stop by the warehouse, maybe toss firecrackers into the canal—there they’d be much less likely to start a fire.

“Tobi told me you hate my brother,” Sasuke muttered once they were no longer in view of the park. “Is it true?”

_Shit._

Slowing his pace slightly, Deidara held up his hands, a gesture of surrender. “Look, I’d rather not get involved in your family drama, mn.”

“He _murdered_ _my parents._ ” Sasuke glared sideways at Deidara. He was bent forward as he walked, hands in his pockets.

“They were his parents, too, mn!” Deidara surprised himself by saying. “It had to have been an accident!”

Sasuke swung around and gaped at him, stopping right in front of Deidara. “You don’t understand! He _told_ me he killed them. Right juvie after he got out of, he told me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if the memory was physically painful. When he snapped them open again, Deidara saw for the first time that his irises were not the fathomless black he’d first imagined: they were a deeper, darker version of Itachi’s blood red.

“I’d spent that whole year and a half worrying about him,” Sasuke continued, pulling his hands out of his pockets and letting them fall by his sides. “I couldn’t wait to see him again, to tell him I didn’t blame him for the accident… But the first and _only_ thing he said to me after he got out…”

The sad look in his eyes burned away. He took a step closer to Deidara and raised his index finger. “The _only_ thing he said to me was ‘They had to die, Sasuke. I needed to prove that I could do it, so I did it. If you want to avenge them, you have to prove you’re strong enough to do it, too.’ Then he left.”

A chill went down Deidara’s spine that had nothing to do with the sudden gust of wind lifting his hair. What could have prompted Itachi to say something like that to his little brother? What really happened that day? Was it really an accident? Did Itachi murder them because of a disagreement like Tobi implied? Or was Kabuto telling the truth: had the Uchihas been up to something illegal? Deidara didn’t know what to think. But he did know that the look in Sasuke’s eyes right then told him everything he needed to know about Sasuke’s intentions.

“You think you’re strong enough now… mn.”

A fire smoldered behind Sasuke’s eyes as the wind began to pick up.

“I just need to find the right opportunity.”

Deidara lifted an eyebrow. “If you actually kill your brother you will go to jail. You’ve basically just told me you’re planning to do it, so you can’t plead involuntary manslaughter. I’d testify against your ass in a heartbeat. I owe you nothing, mn.”

Sasuke began to laugh that same low, dry chuckle. He closed his eyes and took a step back. When he looked up at Deidara again, he pressed his palms together in a gesture usually used to pray or express gratitude.

“My brother needs to die,” he said, grinning with a mad gleam in his eyes. “I thought you could be an ally, but now I see I was wrong. I’ll get what I need elsewhere.”

“And what might you need, mn?”

“A fatal accident…” Sasuke’s head tipped to the side. “…and plausible deniability.”

This time the chill twisted through Deidara’s guts as he realized what Sasuke was implying.

“You’d use me and my art like that?” he whispered, pulling his coat tighter around himself. The wind was strong now; his ponytail and fringe whipped wildly. He shivered.

But just as quickly as it came, the fear left Deidara and he straightened his back. He spoke with growing confidence: “You could try, but you have no idea who you’re dealing with. You think I just leave my explosives lying around? You think I’d _ever_ tell you my supplier? You might be able to find him yourself, but you’re a fool if you think after today I won’t give him your description. There’s _no way_ you will _ever_ be able to pin an accident harming Itachi on _me_ , mn _.”_

Sasuke’s grin melted and his handsome features distorted into a grimace of rage; he trembled like the lid of a pot about to boil.

“ _He killed my parents_ ,” he rasped. “ _He needs to die!_ ”

“Can’t you see how stupid this is?!” Deidara cried, throwing his arms wide. The tails of his coat fluttered in the growing wind. “Revenge will not get your parents back! Revenge won’t save either one of you. You need to stop. Just walk away, mn.”

Sasuke stared at him, then slowly shook his head. “You will never understand,” he said in a low voice before turning on his heel and stalking away.

Deidara didn’t realise he was holding his breath until his body pulled in a long, ragged inhale. The first thing he did was pull out his phone and ring Sasori.

*

“Deidara? What is it?” Sasori had almost let the call ring to voicemail, but when he saw it was Deidara he picked up right away. He knew he had been wrong earlier: Deidara knew how to get under his skin, but Sasori didn’t know where he’d be without him. He was standing at the stove minding the temperature of a red wine reduction sauce: preparing something a little nicer than usual might make up for not paying Deidara much attention recently, he thought.

Without preamble, Deidara told him about Sasuke, words spilling so fast he would stumble on them and have to go back.

“I knew it!” Sasori said in a low voice. He paced around the kitchen island, mind working through everything he knew, calculating next steps.

“I need to get rid of the dynamite Nagato and the rest of Pain got me, mn,” Deidara whispered as if he were paranoid that Sasuke still loitered nearby. “I told him I didn’t keep my explosives lying around, but it’s all still sitting in the dehumidifier at my workshop… mn.”

“You either come up with an exhibition fast, destroy it, or sell it back to Vinny,” Sasori replied. He picked up the wooden spoon he had been stirring the sauce with. “It’s that simple.”

“I’ll talk to Vinny,” Deidara replied. “If I rush an exhibition I’ll regret it. Besides, that might be just the opportunity he’s looking for, mn.”

“Don’t let him scare you,” Sasori replied, twirling the spoon around his lithe fingers. “I’ve got someone keeping an eye on him.”

“What? Who?” The surprise in Deidara’s voice was almost offensive to Sasori. Did he really think that all he had been doing the past few weeks was working on his puppets? Did he really think that Sasori would leave Itachi unprotected? But Sasori checked his temper, reminding himself that just because he was used to working alone didn’t mean he had to.

“It’s… Kabuto, actually,” Sasori said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Kabuto!?”

Sasori rubbed the bridge of his nose. Deidara knew nothing. Explaining this would be troublesome.

“Darling, I’m incredibly confused, mn,” Deidara’s voice wavered.

The sauce bubbled over.

“Shit!” Sasori exclaimed, leaping to switch off the stove “I’ll explain at home, okay? I’m in the middle of making dinner.”

“Fine, see you at home, mn.”

*

Watching Deidara shove open the front door, kick off his shoes and rather vehemently throw a—was it really?—a misshapen loaf of bread to the floor told Sasori it wasn’t going to be a calm evening.

He knew better than to ask about the bread, but by this point he was certain that anything he said would probably send Deidara off. And he wasn’t sure how nice he was feeling himself. He set out dishes and cutlery and plated the steak and roast vegetables he’d prepared.

Deidara dropped heavily onto a stool and rubbed his hands over his eyes and forehead. He tugged the sleeves of his creamy white sweater over his knuckles, examined the hems, rolled them back, then shook out the sleeves once more.

When Sasori set Deidara’s plate of dinner down in front of him, Deidara’s head snapped up.

“Aren’t you going to say something?? Mn.”

Sasori closed his eyes and sighed.

“What do you want to know?”

Wild eyed, Deidara spluttered: “I-I don’t know?! Why not start with how the boyfriend of the man whose name you can’t even say out loud without fainting is watching Sasuke for you, mn??”

“Kabuto is someone I tasked with watching _Orochimaru,_ originally,” Sasori said slowly, clearly enunciating Orochimaru’s name. He picked up his knife and fork and began cutting his steak into small chunks. “I met him a couple years ago in one of the group therapy sessions I used to attend. He wasn’t a patient: he was one of the trainee therapists. But the day I shared about _him_ , he came up to me after the session. As it turned out, they were already involved—”

Deidara’s mouth dropped open but Sasori held up a hand before he could speak.

“I know. It’s odd that someone supposedly learning to take care of other’s mental health would fall for someone sick like _him_ , but strangely… I think that’s precisely why Kabuto was drawn to him.”

“How old is Kabuto, mn?” Deidara asked. He picked at his dinner.

“He turned thirty this year, I believe.”

“Damn I’m bad at guessing ages!” Deidara exclaimed, throwing down his steak knife. He shook his head incredulously. “He doesn’t look any older than me, mn!”

Sasori chuckled at this, then continued. “Never mind that. What matters is that he and I started off chatting every week at therapy, and eventually it turned into him giving me updates about Orochimaru. Like a spy, almost.”

“Cuz that’s not weird at all, mn,” Deidara muttered, chewing on a strip of steak.

“This was after… after I hit my lowest point. I was done with him, but I wanted to know whether he was harming anyone else. I wanted to have that power over him, to know things about him that I could use against him, if that’s what it ever came down to…”

“So what’s the latest with Sass-child then?”

Sasori narrowed his eyes but decided not to comment on the nickname. _I don’t think I’ll ever understand what goes on inside his mind…_

“According to Kabuto, he lives in student accommodation, goes to all of his classes, and works at Snake Den five nights a week. So far, no suspicious activity, nothing like what you said happened today. If he’s been talking to people or making plans like that, Kabuto doesn’t know about it.”

“You mean you aren’t checking his browser history?” Deidara rolled his eye. “No tapped phone lines? You guys are useless as far as spies go, mn.”

“We don’t need to go that far,” Sasori replied, raising his eyebrows. “We just need to watch him and keep him out of trouble.”

“Seems unlikely given the fact that Orochimaru’s got him in his sights… mn.” Deidara gnawed another large bite of steak.

Sasori became pensive. “Kabuto assures me that it’s not like that. If anything, Orochimaru wants to steal him from the Uchiha for the yakuza…”

Deidara threw his utensils down again. “What.”

“Orochimaru is yakuza,” Sasori explained. _How did Deidara not realise this?_

“How do you know??”

Sick of having to explain everything, Sasori replied in a slightly raised voice: “I’ve seen the man naked enough times! Every inch of skin you can’t see is covered in their tattoos. And how the fuck do you think he’s able to keep his mostly-illegal side-business running? He’s been yakuza since before either of us were born!”

Deidara stood suddenly. For a moment, he glanced around the room as if he were looking for something but couldn’t remember where he put it. Then he made a beeline for the nightstand, unplugged his phone charger, stuffed it in his pocket and without a word headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Sasori called as Deidara laced up his shoes.

Deidara looked up at him. He was absolutely fed up.

“This is too much,” he shrugged, standing. “I didn’t sign up for any of this. I don’t know how many more secrets you’ve got, but right now, I couldn’t handle hearing another one. I’m going back to my dorm tonight. Don’t call me later, mn.”

Sasori couldn’t think of anything to say before the door slammed shut.

Alone now, he couldn’t help but think how nice it felt to sit in peaceful, silent solitude.


End file.
